The Showers Until Spring
by zurpocalypse
Summary: Spring /noun/ a. The season of the year between winter and summer, during which the weather becomes warmer and plants revive. b. A time of growth and renewal.
1. Chapter 1

Authors Note: Yay! My first OPM fanfic. I've been meaning to post this a while back, but you know how adulthood and responsibility get in the way...

The sun had not yet cracked its light onto the dark sky as the cyborg had awoken from its slumber. A soft amber glow emitted from his chest as he had activated his operating systems. Only the hum of his body filled the air. He sat beside the table with his legs under his thighs, his hands were folded on his lap. He scanned the room with his motion sensors and found nothing out of the ordinary. A dusty notebook rested in front of him. Once he was fully functional, he opened the notebook and read the contents.

September 23rd

5 AM: The morning news followed up on the attack on City X. They state it would be years before the city were to thrive again.

5:30 AM: I watched a documentary about bears and their hibernation patterns for half an hour. It was quite interesting.

6 AM: Headed to the canyon where Sensei and I had trained previously. I focused on making sharper turns while mid-air. Significant leg and core control is needed to do so.

3:15 PM: Visited Dr. Kuseno to upgrade my sleep arrangements. The doctor advised me to not go through with it, but I insisted heavily upon the belief that it would help lower the tension in my body. He gave me the upgrade.

6:47 PM: Went to the store and bought some dishrags and a new broom. The fibers on the older one had begun to fall off.

7:32 PM: I arrived back to the apartment and cleaned.

9 PM: I put my new upgrade to the test. I hope to find the results to be satisfying.

He closed the notebook and placed it back on the table. It was difficult for him to stand up as he had been dormant for quite a while. He thought that he should oil his joints before he heads out to continue his training. He roamed around the room to find his pencil, nearly tripping on the futon he had set up before testing his upgrade. He quickly put it away and continued on to no avail. Out on the balcony, boxes upon boxes of mail and trinkets had been collecting dust outside the apartment. He figured he could open them at a later time and went back in to watch the news.

"-seems that there is going to be a lot of clouds and little sunshine, despite it being almost Spring. The highest temperature is estimated to be 10°C on Thursday while the rest of the week would remain around the 7°C. Expect some heavy rain fall as well in this coming week. And now to Akihiro Ono for the sports."

Genos quickly muted the television. He could care less about the sports industry. He saw this as a chance to clean the unkempt apartment. He took a rag from the kitchen and wiped down every table and counter. He grabbed the room from the storage closet and swept away a sea of dust and lint. Tidying the apartment brought him back to when he would listen to his teacher yell at a contestant on a game show or sniffle to a drama as he washed the dishes. After having cleaned, he placed a teapot of water onto the stove. Making tea was more of a habit rather than him actually wanting to have a drink. Genos sat back beside the table as he wait for the tea to boil.

Genos was taken aback by a loud thud that had hit the window. He focused on the window to see what had collided into it. Another small stone had struck the glass a few seconds after the first. He crouched to his knees and slid the door open to the balcony. He could still hear stones being thrown onto the window. A heat signature was detected from his vision. He pressed his back on the concrete wall and fired up his robot hand for attack. He shot up and aimed his arm out with his palm facing the intruder.

"Wait-Wait-Wait! Don't shoot!" The cyclist waved frantically to him with a wary smile on his face. He cupped the side of his mouth and greeted him in a shaken voice.

The cyborg was dumbfounded. He lowered his arms to his side. What could this man be doing up so early? More importantly, how did he know where he lived? "License-Less Rider? What brings you here?"

"I came here to check on you. Do you mind coming down?"

Genos nodded. It appeared as if everyone visited to "check" on him. Getting to the area was difficult on its own, so it felt as if he was more than obligated to see the cyclist. He walked back to the room and closed the door behind him. He headed to the kitchen turned off the stove. As he proceeded to leave, he glanced over to the television, but was reeled in by an image of a city under construction. The image had grown small and moved to the left where a brunette anchorwoman mouthed the news. He couldn't help but want to listen. He un-muted the channel.

"-n other news, City X is nearing completion since the alien invasion almost a year and a half ago. We have the workers and volunteers to thank for putting countless hours into rebuilding the city. However, the one we should thank the most mysterious hero who saved us all."

"Saitama! I've come to challenge you to a fight to the death!" It bellowed with it's arms crossed in an intimidating manor.

The alien seemed strangely familiar... But the hero couldn't put his finger on it...

"Okay... But have we... met before?" Saitama asked as he rubbed his chin. He examined the alien creature from a lengthy distance as they stood under piles of ruble from the nearly disintegrated city that had once thrived.

"No, we have not. I would not have let you live long enough to see me again," it remarked. "Allow me to alliterate. Picture me as I am, but pink and blue."

Woah. He was the spitting image of the alien that Saitama had fought nearly a year ago. The hero was surprised to have even remember the formidable alien. What was his name again? Brock? Broccoli? Bro...

The alien pointed his thumb to himself and said, "My name is Coros! And I am here to avenge my elder brother, Boros, by killing you! And to restore honor to our noble family!" His deep, maniacal laughter thundered throughout the area.

"... alright." So his name was Boros. All that mattered to him was that he at least remember the face. Only, his self proclaimed brother's color palette consisted more of yellow and white.

With that, Coros had sprinted toward the hero with lightening speed. Coros jumped high and brought his leg up with the intention to smash the human. Saitama raised his arms to form an X and blocked the attack without a single flinch. The alien somersaulted back to his previous spot. He arched back as he inhaled until his lungs were full on air. He shot back up and expelled a large, white beam of energy from his mouth. Seeing this, the hero pulled his right fist back and waited for the stream of energy to hit him. As the beam was close, he stretched out his arm and used its force to send the beam back to its owner. Coros managed to dodge it as it crashed into a building. The punch carried a blanket of dust with it, camouflaging the opponents. Eventually, they had found each other and continued with hand-on-hand combat. The alien had boost his energy by transforming into his final form, which made him more bulk and longer hair.

Saitama was getting annoyed. The fight was dragging for too long and had bored him. While fighting mid-air for a while, they landed back on the ground. He decided to finish the battle with his Serious Punch. The sheer force from the punch was able to send any normal human flying to their death, but the alien had not even moved a millimeter. Sine he hadn't moved, consequently, Saitama's whole arm punched through the aliens stomach. Both of them were frozen with shock from the surprising turn of events. Saitama had tried to free himself, while processing the strange situation. He was almost free, but Coros hunched forward and coughed up onto the hero's arm. Pain had left his mind. He was more perturbed and outraged by the fact that a mere human could have inflicted such damage to him. Before Saitama could free his fist, Coros grabbed onto the hero's forearm and stared him down. Unbeknownst to the hero, the alien had one more gimmick up his sleeve.

Saitama was kinda creeped out.

Again, the same deep, bellowed laughter emitted from him. Then, the alien made a noise in from the bottom of his throat that sounded like a cat about to cough up a hairball. Confused, Saitama froze in place. It leaned back a bit and spat a large, dark blue, almost black, ball of liquid right onto the hero's face.

"FUCK!" Saitama groaned. He was never one to curse, but the pain in his eye's changed that. He used his free arm in an attempt to wipe the sludge from his eyes, only to spread it more across his face. He forcefully removed his arm from the alien and used his cape to wipe the sludge from his face.

Coros continued to laugh as he fell back onto the rubble. Unaware to Saitama, Coros had disintegrated into the air, leaving parts of his skeletal frame behind. The hero tried desperately to wipe the mysterious fluid from his face. The solution felt like it was burning in his skin.

"Sensei!" Genos called. He had managed to find his master after having to fight off a handful of intimidating aliens. The cyborg was able to maneuver his way through the rubble and to his teacher. He was battered and missing his left arm. He had grown distressed when he saw Saitama curling into himself with his cape covering his face. "Sensei, are you alright?!" He asked as he tried to examine the damage. He advised him to remove the cape from his face, to which the hero did. Saitama's face was smudged with a thick, almost oil like, residue. Even with his scanners, the fluid was enigmatic and completely alien to the cyborg.

"Yes! I'm doing great," he replied sarcastically. "That guy just spit in my face and-shit! It's in my eyes! It's in my eyes!" As he talked, some of the fluid had made it way to his lips and rolled into his mouth. The liquid tasted like a burnt, bitter cookies and the smell of gasoline.

The teen insisted that he clean the remaining sludge. Saitama gave him his cape and let him wipe the secretion from his face. Though Saitama had cleaned off most of the residue off, it concentrated more around his eyes and his mouth.

"It's extremely difficult to wipe off. Sensei, I feel that is necessary to use some saliva to clean off the rest as it will-"

"Do whatever! Just get it off!" He barked.

Seeing that the cape was too dirtied, Genos had ripped out a piece of his own shirt to sanitize the man. He wiped the cloth on his tongue and wiped it along Saitama's eyes and lips. He ripped off more pieces from his shirt as the other ones had dirtied quickly. The stinging sensation had nearly disappeared and he was able to finally open his eyes. A distressed look was on his disciple's face.

"Sensei, do you feel better now?"

"Y-Yeah. I'm good now, thanks." Saitama looked around to find his opponent, only to spot his remains disintegrating into the breeze. "What's his problem anyway?" He muttered to himself. "Well, whatever. He's done for now."

"We should hurry home and wash away the rest of the fluid," he said as he helped his teacher up with his only hand. Genos took a mental note to bring the cape to his doctor to have the residue analyzed.

"Yeah, but I'll probably have to take 5 showers to get the smell off," he groaned. Not to mention that he planned to brush his teeth for 30 minutes to get the taste out of his mouth. "At least it's a good thing I don't have to pay for the water bill."


	2. Chapter 2

_Author's Note: In Japan, it is illegal for more than two people to be on a bike._

The cyclist invited the teen to join him for breakfast.

Genos was unwilling at first. His initial plan for the day was to catalog his findings to the doctor and return home to wait for his teacher to return... He wound up accepting his offer.

Mumen Rider recommended a place close to the apartment building, but it would still be about a half hour commute. Since the area is so desolate, he was able to give the cyborg a lift on the back of his bike. Once Genos was settled, they rode off down the street. The crisp, refreshing morning breeze flowed through Genos' hair and face. Every once in a while, they would go through a puddle for their own amusement. They passed through collapsed buildings, broken bottles and the occasional stray cat. Though he did notice that there was more trash scattered on the floor and more graffiti on the walls. One piece in particular read WAITING TO BREATHE in red ink. It's funny how things can in such a short time. They remained silent until they reached their destination.

When they arrived, the sun had barely illuminated the area. The restaurant looked like a typical, generic chain. The inside looked even more generic with a slow atmosphere. They found a booth beside a window and sat on opposite sides. Mumen rider placed his helmet near the window. The waitress brought them menus and two glasses of iced water and left them alone. They both looked at the menus silently for a few moments.

"So, Genos," the cyclist blurted, "have you heard about the rumors?"

"What rumors?"

"You haven't heard?" Genos shook his head. "There's tons of gossip about you, though I'm kinda surprised you haven't. There's one where people think you've gone in hiding underground. Some even think that you're dead. I think the craziest one I heard was that you had gone and went to live on the moon," he laughed.

So this is why the cyclist came to "check on him". He wanted to confirm weather the rumors were true or not. "As you can see, I'm not living on the moon, but, in fact, having a conversation with you."

He laughed. "If you don't mind me asking, what have you been doing all this time?" He then took a sip of his drink.

"I've been hibernating."

Mumen Rider had nearly spat out his drink. "Y-You've been sleeping?"

"Yes. The latest log entry I had written was on September 23rd. So, since then." Genos asked for the current date. He assumed that he couldn't have been asleep for more than a week, since that was his plan. Through he questioned how the room could have gotten so filthy in such a short span. "I assume that today would be the 30th based on my calculations."

The cyclist was in a nervous sweat. He could see that is glasses had begun to fog from his body heat. "Um... About that... The dates kinda off."

"Is it? I thought I had done my calculations correctly. I even double checked. Could it already be October 1st?"

Mumen rider shook his head.

"The second? Third?"

The cyclist had sunken deeper into the booth. He felt that the teen was tearing into his soul with his amber eyes. Eyes that urged him to say something. He bit his tremulous lip. He felt like a criminal under a lamp being interrogated by a cop. He tried to keep quiet, but he knew he would have to say something eventually.

"Would you mind telling me todays date, please?"

He even pulled out the p-word! He had immediately succumbed to the stress. Mumen rider felt as if he were a doctor about to tell his patient that he had a life-threatening ailment. He took in a breath and said, "It-It's... It's March 2nd."

 _... What?_

"Um. E-Excuse me, but are you the Demon Cyborg?" A shaken, feminine voice asked.

They both turned to their sides and saw a group of three girls huddled by the edge of their table. They displayed wary smiles, pink cheeks and their colorful phones. The girls looked like they could be in high school.

"Can we have your autograph? Maybe a picture with you?" The girls all seemed too thrilled to be in his presence. The cyborg was the total opposite.

The cyborg turned his attention to the window and remained silent. Mumen rider decided to take action. "I'm sorry ladies," he said, "but he hasn't been feeling very well. Maybe next time."

"Oh. We understand," the brunette said in a heartbroken tone. "We're sorry for the trouble." They bowed their heads and excused themselves from the table. As they left, the duo could hear them whisper about how the rumors were definitely only rumors.

Genos thanked the man for doing the talking. He feared that if he had said something, things would have ended badly. Who wouldn't be in a foul mood? He had just been informed that he had been gone for six months. He stared at his drink as beads of water rolled from the glass. His mind was bouncing off everywhere. How could he have kept himself in for half a year? He did the calculation beforehand. What happened? Whenever he tried to remember anything before September 23rd, his head was caught in a haze. The thought of him being dormant for so long was horrific. It seemed too unreal. The teen had scooted to the far edge of the table as he apologized to the cyclist. "I have to see Dr. Kuseno immediately," he stated in a shaken voice. "Something went terribly wrong."

"Yeah-Yeah I understand. Go straighten things out with him."

Genos stood up and fumbled away from the table."Please excuse me Mumen Rider, we can meet again some other time," he said. Before the cyclist could say anything, Genos had already burst through the door and sprinted down the street.

He was consumed with frustration. How could he let this happen to himself? What could have let the plan fail? And why did the outside world seem so new to him? He had sprinted down a few more blocks when he saw a window full of various sized televisions, one of which played the news. He came to a halt. The cyborg couldn't help but be reeled in again by the television. Again. The anchorman continued with his story:

"An alert has been sent out from the Hero Association. Keep on the look out for tiny, grey robots with a purple image of a star on the back. They are highly dangerous and aggressive. If you happen to come across these robots, do not come in contact with them. Contact the police immediately-"

All of a sudden, he felt something bump against his leg, just below the knee. He expected a child to have accidentally collided into him, but it was nowhere near being a child. Or human. The droid was dark gray and had the shape of a snowman. The very top of its head was flattened, besides a dent curving inside. Two purple lights on the top sphere, possibly it's eyes, had fixated into his glare. He was more drawn to the purple scarf in it's pincer-like hands than anything else. It quickly rolled it's bottom half back and rolled down the street. It's slender arms waved around as it maneuvered down the street and into an alley. Genos had noticed a star shaped mark on it's back.

As much as he wanted to forget about the incident, curiosity got the best of him. He followed the robot to a dark alley between a convenient store and flower shop. The alley was of a breathable space, wide enough to where two bodies can stretch their arms out wide and still have space. Plastic grocery bags, cigarettes and damp newspapers littered the concrete floor. It reeked of cigarette smoke and rotting garbage. The tiny robot could have gone out further if it had not been blocked by a 10ft wooden fence. It was cornered by the teen. It immediately raised its wire-like arms and surrendered.

"Please don't hurt me!" The robot cried, it's voice distorted. "I'm sorry I took the scarf without permission! It just looked so pretty and soft and I just had to have it! I didn't mean any harm!" It rolled up to the cyborg cautiously and handed him the scarf with its head low.

Genos was more dumbfounded than anything else. Highly dangerous and aggressive? More like panicky and fragile. He picked up the robot and held it to eye level. The robot quickly retreated into it's body like a turtle. "Don't worry. That scarf doesn't belong to me. I have no intention of harming you."

The droid peeked out from it's and scanned the cyborg. "Say, are you a robot too?"

"No. Robots are advanced machines. I'm a cyborgs, which is a combination of living organism _and_ machine."

"Cool! I guess that kinda makes us long lost brothers, huh?"

"Hardly. We're not even from the same creator."

"Then who's your creator?" It asked.

"That's classified. More importantly, who's yours?" He asked as he examined its body.

The robot refused to answer, to which he called him "unfair". Genos threatened to incinerate the droid, but his bluff was called out. What happened to the machine that cowered before him a few moments ago? The teen was beginning to loose his patience. As much as he didn't want to, he had to use other methods of persuasion.

"Can you please tell me? I mean, we _are_ brothers. And we're supposed to tell each other everything. Right, big brother?" He figured that establishing himself as the "younger brother" role would help in persuading the robot.

"I-I'm your older brother," the robot said in a tone resembling a tearful one. Genos nodded. "Alright little bro, I'll tell you."

His tactics paid off. Genos felt a little proud. The tiny robot told the teen how he was just one of hundreds of identical bots, though he is a smaller version. It, along with a handful of others, were released into the city a few days ago for the purpose of creating havoc among the citizens. It figured it was part of something bigger, but he didn't know its full purpose. However, the robot in Genos' hands much rather preferred to steal things that interest it and wander. The one's operating the entire scheme were his inventor and his boss, which he deemed "the most badass of them all". Genos had persisted on for more information, but that was all the tiny robot knew. Or so he says. The teen planned to take the robot to Dr. Kuseno for further examination.

As they made their way down the alley, the tiny robot proceeded to talk about it's troubles. It complained about how people threw rocks at it whenever it came in contact with anyone. It didn't mean any harm. It's only intentions were to explore it's surroundings. It even praised the teen for showing it mercy. "Thanks for listening to me, lil' bro," it said. "It's hard for me to connect with others sometimes. Especially with the other robots. Like this one time when-."

It happened within the blink of an eye. As quick as it was, a small knife had pierced through its head. Slices of its body had begun to slide off onto the concrete. The purple scarf was left unscathed. Genos watched as static emitted from the torn wires inside its shredded body.

"Who would've guessed that I'd run into you here?" A disembodied voice remarked.

Genos looked up to face the stranger. The ninja sported a grey V-neck with newspaper print font on the front spelling "Top Dog". He had also worn black, skin tight pants and a chain hanging from his belt where his sword was. His silver eyes narrowed to him like cold steel.

Once again, frustration had seethed into the cyborg. "Why did do that?"

"I saw that thing run off with my scarf. I lost its trail for a bit, until I heard you. It took every ounce of willpower I had to not slice your stupid face."

"That was completely unnecessary! That robot had valuable information with it and you completely sabotaged my investigation."

"So? That thing stole _my_ scarf. It signed his death wish when he did that. That portable pencil sharpener had it coming."

Just looking at his smug face made him want to punch it. "Not only did you destroy possible data, but you just had to show off that unsightly face of yours."

"Don't fucking start with me bot-boy! I've been in a bad mood all day. My hands are basically screaming at me to break some bones. Or, at least, some metal limbs," he snickered.

Genos felt his hands tense into fists, itching to brawl. "I feel the same way," he said. His legs spread to a stance and his arms were pulled to his side. His chest had an amber glow as he prepared his body for a fight.

Sonic laughed. "Then I guess there's only one way to settle this." He had completely forgotten about his scarf.

Genos and Sonic charged toward each other. Sonic quickly drew out his sword and blocked the cyborgs metal fist. A few sparks flew as the ninja's sword scraped against the metal. They pulled back, leaving Sonic to bounce off the walls like a ball to the rooftop. The teen followed his trail. The sun shone down brightly on the two as they threw punches at each other. More sparks flew like fireworks as they came in contact with one another. Genos fired up his hands and tried to aim at the agile man. He managed to shoot a ball of fire aimed at his side. He could have done some damage if Sonic hadn't blocked it with his sword, though it did melt the steel.

Since when was he so quick? His sensors could hardly keep up with him. Genos could feel himself overheating. His growing rage wasn't helping either. But he didn't want to stop. There was some sort of longing for hand-on-hand combat. He enjoyed the strain in his joints, his heavy breathing and the heat from his body. It was sorta deranged. The longer he fought, the more the steam emitted from his body. Sonic took notice of this.

"Ya' know, I missed not being able to remember your face," Sonic remarked as he dodged a punch. He toyed with Genos' anger more. "I thought you would have been more of a challenge since you've been gone so long. Guess I was wrong-."

"Shut up!" He barked, firing more fireballs that Sonic easily dodged.

He grinned. "Face it Genos. You're nothing but a rusty hunk of metal. There's no way you can defeat me. I'm Speed-O'-Sound Soni-!"

He managed to grab the ninja's arm as he was distracted from his own monologue. He twisted the ninja's forearm, lifted him over his head and slammed him down onto the alley's pavement. The cement had cracked under the force. He picked him up again and slammed him onto the floor repeatedly. The cyborg was sure that the ninja had at least a broken rib or two. Genos grabbed a fistful of his hair and pulled back his arm to punch him. As he was about to do so, he couldn't. He tried, but he wasn't moving an inch. The heat escaped from his body. He felt as stiff as a tree trunk. Suddenly, it had occurred to him.

He forgot to oil his limbs.

The more he struggled, the harder it was to move his appendages.

Sonic saw Geno's stiffness as a window of opportunity. He pulled his head away from the cyborg's grasp and crawled back. Even Sonic was sure that he had broken something. Without wasting any time, he stood up, pulled his leg back and kicked Genos in the face. The teen plummeted to the ground as the ninja recoiled back to tend to his injured arm and chest. The stunt had left his foot throbbing. Sonic limped toward him and continued to kick and step on him. Bolts and pieces of metal fell onto the floor. At this point, Genos was completely immobile. The metal was bending and his skin was peeling. To make matters worse, Sonic grabbed his arm, ripped it off, and slapped him repeatedly with his own hand. He obviously got a kick out of it for a short while. The ninja threw the arm onto his body.

Sonic crouched down to face the cyborg. A stream of blood slid down the side of his face from a cut on his forehead. His narrowed, silver eyes felt as if had pierced into his core. He smacked his lips. "This was a waste of my time. There's a place for junk like you."

Sonic grabbed the cyborg's collar and flung him over the fence. Genos landed atop a pile of black garbage bags and in a dumpster. Pieces of the tiny robot and his arm landed on his stomach. It wasn't long until the lid had slammed down shut. Genos was engulfed in darkness. The first thing that hit him was the horrendous smell. The powerful, sour oder of made him nauseous and sent his mind in a daze. Genos couldn't fathom what had happened. No. It was more like he didn't want to. He was humiliated. Defeated by the likes of _him_. It was through his own carelessness that he wound up in the trash. But there was some truth to the ninja's words. He felt like junk. He was junk. Genos decided to shut down for a moment, not wanting to think anymore about his situation. Maybe someone would find him. Faintly, he could hear Sonic speak again from the other side.

"That sorry excuse for a hero. Why can't the baldy still be here?"

What better way to kill time than by closing your eyes and forgetting that your problems ever existed in the first place. Right?


	3. Chapter 3

The cyborg's eyes shot open, first blurry then clear, as he inspected the room he was in. His arms laid a few inches from his side. The sounds of industrial computers beeping rhythmically faintly streamed through his ears. He laid flat on a steel bed tilted slightly upward toward a beaming overhead white light. Wires connected to him like snakes slithering into his body. To his right was the elderly doctor jotting down notes on his clipboard.

A dark, bruise-like color streaked under his eyes and his lips looked like they hadn't been exposed to water in a while. Not only that, but Dr. Stench seemed worn down by something. Whatever it was, it didn't stop him from smiling down on the teen like there wasn't a worry in the world. A folded stack of what seemed to be new clothes were stacked on a table beside the doctor.

"Doctor?" Genos muttered in a dry, hoarse voice.

"Ah. Good evening, Genos," the doctor said as he loomed over the body."How are you feeling?"

He answered with a low groan. It felt like he had been thrown onto a train. "W... What happened to me?"

"Besides finding your body scrapped away in a landfill yesterday, I don't know. You tell me," he said as he examined the cyborg's right arm. He had begun to remove the tubes from the teen's body.

 _What was the doctor doing in a landfill?_ The cyborg told Dr. Stench how he had been in a deep slumber for nearly six months. Genos then told him about the fight he had with the malevolent ninja. He recalled the utter humiliation and helplessness from his encounter with Sonic. The bellowing weakness. He left that part out.

"Do you think you can move your fingers?" Dr. Stench asked. Genos was able to move his fingers, wrists, arms and legs just as his doctor checked his appendages. He helped the cyborg sit up to examine his shoulders. "You started rusting in your joints, which is most likely the reason why you froze during the quarrel."

"That's not my main concern. More importantly, how could I have let myself remain dormant for half a year, doctor?"

"You wanted to, remember? You demanded that I install it into you."

 _Hibernation system? Demanded?_

"Around early October, you pestered me for weeks and weeks to restart your systems, even after my rejections. I only turned you down because it would have been onerous to construct, not to mention dangerous. Yet, you had grown so restless, so frantic that I had installed a reboot system to calm you down. Apparently it worked a little too well." Again, a soft smile had, "But it's good to see you again."

A myriad of questions ran through the teen's mind. He wanted to know the answers, so he asked them all:

 _What made me want to re-boot his system? Why would I want it in the first place? What made me so desperate to have it installed in me? etc..._

The doctor refused to answer. Genos could see how much it pained Dr. Stench to hold back from him, but he was bent on getting answers. He persisted on. He continued for what seemed like an eternity.

"What about Sensei? Surely he must be well aware of my absence. What happened to him?"

The color from the doctor's skin seemed to flush from his face as if having seen a ghost. Genos felt his artificial muscles tense at the doctor's action. With it grew uneasiness. He repeated his question. A tense silence filled the room for a moment.

The doctor finally blurted, "Genos," he scratched his unkept hair and continued,"how much do you remember exactly?"

Genos tried to think back before six months ago. He could remember grey images and faceless bodies, but nothing much. Why couldn't he remember his teacher? He was able to mold a simple body, but not a face. Why? A splitting ache shot through his head as he tried to remember. Dr. Stench advised the cyborg to sit back down, to which he did. He finally spoke, "The last thing I can remember before six month ago would be me and Sensei fighting an alien creature. Though I can remember a little farther than that, but nothing after that."

"Thats good," said. "That means it worked."

Genos grew even more concerned. _What is he talking about? What's the meaning of all this?_ Dr. Stench tightened his lips to a line. He paid his attention back to the clipboard in hand in an attempt to play off his previous mistake. He had written more onto his entry, ignoring the teen's pleas for reassurance. Genos knew that his words carried emptiness, but he had hoped it would reach him, even if for a moment. Was there someone holding a gun to his back? Who?

"Is there something restricting you from giving me the answers I seek?"

"Not something," he said. "Someone."

"Who?! Tell me please!"

The doctor set his notes down on the table beside him, eyes locked to the clipboard. "Try to get some rest. We'll settle this tomorrow."

"But I want it settled now!" He shouted as he slammed his fist onto the table near him, which collapsed under . The folded clothes and clipboard scattered on the floor. In a calmer tone, he continued, " Doctor I beg you. Why can't I remember? What's going on?"

The doctor's brow furrowed with a look of remorse like one would give to a beggar. He placed a hand on the cyborg's shoulder, meeting his amber eyes. "As your guardian, I swore to myself to seek out what's best for you. I see you as my own son you know, and it hurts me deeply to see you so distraught. However, I can not go back on my word. I made a promise."

"A promise?" Genos repeated. He removed the doctor's hand from his shoulder, holding it in his own. "So, you're keeping everything from me because of some ridiculous pact you made. Thats pretty selfish, Doctor."

"Watch your mouth! You do not understand the magnitude of this situation!"

"Then explain it to me!" He barked. "I have the right to know what's going on. I want to know what's wrong with me. What made me want to restart my systems? Why can I only picture blank faces? Please doctor! Tell me! I want to see memories. I want to relive them. I want to recognize old faces. Enemies. Friends. Please, I want to see Sens-," as Genos tried to stand up, he collapsed onto the floor. The doctor rushed to his aid. Again, helplessness consumed the teen. He clutched onto the elderly man's coat and said in a tone of heartbreak, "Please doctor, I want to remember."

The doctor could do nothing but help erase some of his distress through an embrace. He wanted to tell him everything right then and there. But he had to hold himself back. He knew it was the right thing to do. If only the teen understood.

The teen heard his name under Dr. Stench's breath. He could feel a cold hand resting behind his head, followed by a series of rapid clicks. "Get some rest."

Before the cyborg could react, darkness consumed him again.

 _Author's Note: I finally got a job! Sorry if this seems rushed, but I got super busy and I wanted this DONE to move onto more refreshing chapters._


	4. Chapter 4

_**Author's Note:** I didn't mean for this chapter to be so short, but I wanted to give at least something. I've been busy with work and I don't know how long these next chapters will take to write. Hope it wont be too long tho T-T. FYI, I suck at making chapter titles. _

Genos had awoken to the crashing noise of rain slamming against the roof of the doctor's lab. With the overhead light turned off, everything besides a few multi-colored buttons were engulfed in darkness. The sound of the doctor snoring as he slumped over his desk echoed throughout the room.

His limbs felt a bit stiff, but he managed to sit up from the metal bed. He felt that he was fixed enough to have been able to walk. As quietly as he could, he changed into the clothes that laid beside the table next to him. It was not in his nature to snoop into other people's business, but he couldn't help but look over the doctor's notes. Although his wrinkled hands covered most of the page.

 _... conscious can not register the images from... sighs of progress_ _... continuing..._

 _... data 73.9% erased..._

Genos couldn't have gone any faster as he sprinted to City Z. Even through the blistering winds and heavy hail, nothing seemed to phase his determination. He did get a few scratched and dents from the pelting ice.

He couldn't get the words out of his mind. What the doctor had written, what could have it meant? "... _data 73.9% erased_ ..." What could it mean? Could the data have been about some new computer that Dr. Stench was working on? A brand new invention? Or were the notes about... No. That would never happen. He changed his train of thought before he filled his mind with other nonsense. Instead, he had tried to remember the face that came with the name Saitama.

The building stood as tall and ominous as ever. When he entered the apartment, it wasn't a surprise when he found that the power hadn't worked. He used his night vision to look for something to light the room. Luckily, he found some candles and lit them on the living room table. There, he found the notebook he had awoken to in the morning. He sat down and skimmed the pages, hoping to find _his_ name somewhere.

Nothing turned up.

All he ever found were dates that listed practical events such as laundry and shopping.

This couldn't possibly it. He searched in every nook and cranny for other books. A faint earthy smell, most likely from all the accumulated dust, filled the home as he combed the rooms for clues. Unconsciously, the cyborg had begun to clean up the dust. It was as if he was programed to clean. All he did was sweep the floor and wipe down the counter and tables. He continued his search afterward. He looked under the sofa, in cabinets, behind the empty bookcase and even in the fridge. With all the searching, he had found only one other notebook.

He flipped through every page of his notebook and found no mention of his faceless teacher. No mention of what happened to him or even anything about his memories. Genos found it strange that more than half the pages were ripped from the binding. If it were up to him, he would have been out searching for his teacher already. But the storm outside could pose possible threats to him.

He would begin his search tomorrow.

All he knew was that he needed to find his teacher. But he couldn't help but wonder. From what he knew, it felt wrong that his teacher would do something as to get up and leave. What could have happened to him? Why can't he remember his face? The more he tried to remember, the more faded the image had gotten.


End file.
